


Selig

by LadyForeverless



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Emotional, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Other, Platonic Relationships, Psychological
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23137939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyForeverless/pseuds/LadyForeverless
Summary: Finally, your life came to a long desired end. You felt your body growing cold despite it being in warm water, a kind of chill that crawled into your bones and made a nest in your core. Your whole being began to tremble but it didn't matter, it was all signs to say farewell- but then again why would you? You were happy that you could finally make an exit, be free of chains, to forget, to disappear.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Orestes

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue, so I apologize if sentences are worded in a strange way.
> 
> This is just the setting/beginning of headcanons around Mori, a Fan!MC in the OM! universe, and her journey about self-awareness, introspection and growth through unusual relationships. Keep an open mind and enjoy! Constructive criticism is welcome but keep in mind this is merely written for fun.

Finally, it was time.

You undressed and laid bare on the pristine tub, one that has witnessed several of your breakdowns and weakest moments in the past. As you rested your body in it, the pleasant aroma of the candles you set moments ago invaded your senses- it was a citric blend of your favorite fragrances welcoming you into relaxation. Your fingers trailed through the length of the ceramic that enclosed you before laying a firm grip on the copper faucet, first adjusting the temperature to allow a rush of water to fall into the side of your thigh. The touch was cold at first, sending goosebumps through your skin, but soon the warmth soon was noticeable and.

You closed your eyes; the cacophony of rushing water dragged you into meditation.You were at peace, one that you haven't experienced ever. All of your worries were nonexistent. All the anxiety, all the torment, all the frustration were gone from your mind. There was only a solemn calm in your heart which you planned to treasure until your last breath. There was a liberating freedom when nothing mattered anymore. After all that was your decision, your plan, and your final rest.

When the water seemed to reach the desired height, you pulled on the faucet, closing the rush and allowing a penetrating silent invade the restroom. You had all the time in the world to do what you were there to do, so there was no harm in taking your time. You looked around in your humble restroom, finding everything in order as it has ever been. However, the thoughtful decoration you prepared for such a special occasion broke the entire environment- you have put up sunflowers in black vases in every corner, laying down petals all around the floor and even inside the tub. The candles, despite their aroma, where mostly in tones of red and crimson, paced around the room in a perfect balance and harmony, contrasting beautifully with the bright yellow tones. 

You inhaled deeply. There was not a trace of anguish or regret in the decision you made long ago that brought you to that point. You were tired, simply tired, and if anything, you were happy that finally you could see the end to all the disappointment that tormented you without rest. There was a trace of sadness, but it didn't grow from grief. You felt heavyhearted at the fact that the only respite you could have in such a cruel existence, the only calm you could ever experience was at the threshold of your own death. You chuckled, considering how dramatic that last thought was. Worth of a tragic comedy play. Perhaps your death would inspire a work of art- certainly was something you’d appreciate.

Cheerful from that indulgent thought, you finally reached for the blade that was resting in the corner of the bathtub. Brand new, shiny and sharp, you could see your own reflection on it. You didn't look as bad as you had imagined- your silver hair was nicely done, and your pale rose eyes seemed radiant with hope; such sigh provoked a gentle smile from your part.

You broke the surface of the warm water by raising your right arm, exposing your bare wrist. It had to be a vertical slice, otherwise your tendons would be cut and you wouldn't be able to use your opposite hand to do the deed on the other. You didn't even think twice when pushing the blade in your flesh- the resolve was final. The sudden pain that rose from it pulled you from your inner-peace and made you feel alive. As you cut along the arm, blood began to blurt profusely from the wound, diluting in the water among floating petals. The pain was sharp and stingy, but you were surprised by the lack of response from your survival senses. You had read before in articles about suicide survivors that the desire to live struck them somewhere down the line, propelled by a sense of self preservation and realization that all of their problems weren't something they couldn't resolve given enough time on the long run. You were expectant if such a desire would manifest. Either way you were committed to ignore it and continue with your deed, after all you could be considered anything but someone who stepped back from your own decisions- you always took responsibility even in such scenarios.

Without losing further focus, you relied the blade to your right hand this time, and continued with your left arm. Pierce, slice; it was easier this time. Your heart was racing, a spurt of adrenaline flowing down your veins- making the whole event exhilarating. You rested both bleeding arms on the sides of the tub and finally resting your body into a comfortable position, allowing your head to fall back and stare at the ceiling for the next minutes. 

Finally, your life came to a long desired end. You felt your body growing cold despite it being in hot water, a kind of chill that crawled into your bones and made a nest in your core. Your whole being began to tremble but it didn't matter, it was all signs to say farewell- but then again why would you? You were happy that you could finally make an exit, be free of chains, to forget, to disappear.

As your vision began to blurry and your head felt dizzy, there was a soft sensation invading your left hand. You couldn't muster the strength to straighten your neck and look at whatever was going on, so you simply forced your eyes to turn as much as possible to take a peek at the abnormal presence- a robust figure of a man dressed in crimson with matching colored short hair, dark skin, and a stare that was almost as gentle and caring as his touch.

A hallucination, most likely. It didn't matter but it was oddly comforting, you couldn't make sense out of it since you could barely even keep your eyes open anymore. This figure picked up both your hands and cupped them in his, mentioning your name before you passed out.

It was over.

_Was it?_


	2. Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —You speak as if you knew what I wanted, as if you knew better than me— he interjected before you could continue —I can make an assumption of what you could possible desire, but what I'm offering you is not what you wish, but what you need— he seemed absolutely confident —and you can do as you wish with it- whether you fall back to your previous choice or construct a brand new path to flourish into— he insisted, this time gently driving his hand to your face to grab the tip of your chin and have you both lock your eyes on each other —I think there is a potential within you that a cruel world deprived you from discovering—

A nightmare plagued your rest, it was a burning sensation that flooded your limbs making your desperation flare, but there was a calming voice that assured you everything was going to be okay, even if the excruciating physical pain didn't go away. You begged it to stop, to let you go, but it seemed that you were powerless to have any take on the matter. The impotence gutted you into tears.

You woke up into consciousness, eyes wide open despite the rushing sensation of heaviness and weakness that crushed your whole body. Your stare met a foreign ceiling, one that was dark and too intricate to be part of any regular home you have ever visited. You gasped for air as if you had just remember how to breathe, allowing your lungs to have a tremendous fill before trying to push yourself into a sitting position. You realized you were in a bed, a strange one, and were dressed in strange clothes that reminded you of the Victorian era; classical, beautiful and exotic. There were traces of small white petals here and there in your monochromatic attire. Your chest filled with dread. What was happening? Was everything just a dream? Was your suicide a lucid product of your imagination, or was the dream that very moment you were at? You couldn't make sense out of anything. You turned to your arms which were covered with long sleeves and didn't hesitate to pull one up, revealing a burnt scar all across the flesh where you had allegedly sliced previously. You began to hyperventilate in confusion, making your head feel dizzy and your stomach sick. Were you dead? You were not a religious person at all, and you negated the existence of any divine or malefic entities, in shorter terms, you consider yourself an atheist. Before more theories filled your restless mind, a voice called for you, instantly capturing your attention.

—Good morning— a voice let out, its figure alien to you. A tall figure was leaning against a vanity set that looked rather antique and luxurious. However, that paled at the image of that who just spoke to you- you had to blink thrice to decipher if your eyes were deceiving you in any manner. A man, if it could be called like that, bathed in gold decorations, horns sprouting out of his red hair, several monstrous wings enclosing the sides of his towering figure, dark skinned and with some white and black drapes that didn't lack details and luxury covering his bottoms. To say the least, it looked elegant but absolutely demonic. But what unsettled you the most was the fact that his glare was oddly soothing. There was a feeling of warmth that was almost tangible. —I was concerned you wouldn't wake up in time.— the man continued, unfazed by your dreadful reaction. —How are you feeling?—

How were you feeling? What kind of question was that? There was an elephant in the room and the first thing to be asked about was your state. What kind of joke was that? You turned your face away in crooked disgust, not even knowing how to answer that question. What place was that? Who was he? What happened to you? What happened to your suicide? 

You dragged your heavy body to the edge of the bed in chances of getting up. However, that minimal movement exhausted you, and it took you a moment to collect yourself before attempting to stand on your own feet. You were fixed into the mirror of the dressing table, as if it was going to reveal any answers once you looked into it. As soon as you stood up you felt that your knees would fail at any second, to which you responded by shortening the distance between towards the table by throwing your body in its direction. You managed to grab the opposite edge from where the demon-looking entity was leaning against, so you finally allowed your legs rest on your knees while holding onto it. 

—Looks like your body betrays your will— the figure stated with calm along with a hint of harmless laugh. His tone was very comforting and confident, while you were an absolute mess in both body and mind, trying to understand what any of that surreal scenario meant.

—Is this hell?— you muttered your first words. You conceded to the theory that you have died and that must be an introduction to such a plane. What else could make sense at that point? 

The demon smiled softly. —You could say so, although more specifically we are in the Demon Lord's Castle, located in the Devildom— he explained as he was inviting. —Make yourself at home— 

Such response was even more stupid than what you could have expected- not because it sounded like a lie, but because it implied that Hell was actually a thing, and you were there to possibly live a worst fate than you did in the human world. As you tried to compose to sit in the stool in front of the table, you continued —So I take it you are the devil? Claimed my soul and dragged me to the pits of despair— you concluded defeated. By religious terms you committed the so called "ultimate sin" which refers to taking one's life before its due time. How ridiculous of a concept that was, and the fact that it happened to be true. 

A chuckle sprouted from the demon's lips —I'm Diavolo, nice to meet you— he mentioned your name. —That is one way to put it, but your soul is still yours, purer than you would expect from a human— your expression shrugged in confusion while staring at him. _What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

You drove your head back and this time stared into the mirror in front of you, finally taking a look at your face. You looked awfully pale, jasmine flowers buried in your hair, dark circles of a deep purple under your eyes, lips void of any redness. You looked like a porcelain doll of a cadaver. 

You touched your cheeks as in a sense to feel if it you were even real, while picking back up on the commentary from the red haired devil. —If that is so, then why am I here?— you mentioned, entranced by your own image. You looked as if you were meticulously prepared for a funeral, every detail carefully manufactured to raise your best features and look refined and graceful.

—That is because I decided to give you a second chance— his hand softly positioned on your shoulder, comforting, although his words soured your emotions instantly. A second chance? _To what?_ You feared it meant that you were saved, and that you were gonna wake up in some hospital room, bound to deal with living once again. Your throat knotted, you were petrified. Looking through all possible scenarios and every single one of them just shouted suffering. In a jerk motion, you punched the mirror in front of you, but the drained force only led to the glass to crack slightly. 

—And why on earth did you think that was even a remotely good idea?— you said with clenched teeth, not being able to look at him. 

The reason that led you to become an atheist was due the fact that these higher entities were a ridiculous concept, constant depictions of them working in mysterious ways as a perfect charade to mask their stupid decisions as something that couldn't be understood by a mere human. Surely, such a mary-sue character could only be the product of the mind of a deranged human wishing to fantasize in gods that would come and save them from their own fabricated despair. You couldn't possibly understand the train of thought that brought this _whatshisname_ to do as he wished, with zero regards of your own desires. 

—Do you think that the reason I decided to cut my veins open was because of a breakdown, as a tragic plea for help?— your hands turned into fists, squeezing your nails into your own palms. —My decision wasn't born from a flashing moment of misery. I had carefully crafted my own ending for a couple of years now, trying to find reasons to bind me back to the world, something of worth to fight for— you felt the churning heat in the base of your stomach rise to your face, your emotions building up. —And you know what I found?— you turned, facing Diavolo with a pained look. — **Pain**. Humanity has nothing to offer but selfishness, misery and _pain_. What good is it to live in a world in which you only function to survive hopelessly in such torment?— you paused with the intention to inspect his expression, which now looked serious, although his stare still comforting —And you are telling me that you, in all your might and glory, decided to rescue me as a merciful act to give me a second chance to live again in such a disgraceful world?— you frowned, feeling rage building up in your gut —Or perhaps I'm getting the wrong idea. Maybe this merciful act is nothing but a charade to toy with me, after all, that's what demons love, and I'm due for punishment—

Before you were able to continue, Diavolo interjected —It is a matter of perspective, but there are a couple of things you got wrong from your eager assumptions— he paused, his seriousness turning to relaxation —I don't mean to put you back into the human world as of now— he raised a hand to motion a number with his finger —and secondly, I have no vile intentions in my actions— he assured, collecting his hand from your shoulder. —A chance is a chance, however you approach it relies entirely on you— he explained. —There is more to you that you haven't been able to figure out given your situation, and is comprehensible that you wanted to opt out of humanity because of it.— 

The more he talked, the more questions rose up. Why did he talk as if he has known you for so long? What were he implying with all of that? What exactly were the terms of this "chance"? So far you understood that you were to remain in hell, for whatever reason, so in a sense it calmed you to know you didn't have to face your own world, but you felt uneasy at the small print you were unable to read from that interaction. You remained silent, to which he continued —A sunflower cannot bloom if there isn't a sun to look up, wouldn't you agree?— that phrase struck you into an understanding, but your stubbornness remained from the fact you were stolen from a choice. 

—You speak as if you knew what I wanted, as if you knew better than me— he interjected before you could continue —I can make an assumption of what you could possible desire, but what I'm offering you is not what you wish, but what you need— he seemed absolutely confident —and you can do as you wish with it- whether you fall back to your previous choice or construct a brand new path to flourish into— he insisted, this time gently driving his hand to your face to grab the tip of your chin and have you both lock your eyes on each other —I think there is a potential within you that a cruel world deprived you from discovering—

While you still had a lot to ask, such predicaments disappeared from your mind. You were almost bewitched after realizing what he meant, although you needed time to digest it properly. You felt as if your rage diminished and a weight left your shoulders. Diavolo's touch retreated as he stood up, a knocking on the door following up shortly after. His smile expressed such comfort that you didn't find it in yourself to say anything anymore. 

—Come in— he said, referring to who was standing behind the door. A man came through who was introduced as Barbatos, and he was holding a silver tray with tea and some treats —He will look after your needs, for now make sure to eat something and rest properly. There is a big day coming up and you should be in your best health by then—. 

He left the room, and so did the butler after laying down the tray on the desk and sparing a few words in regards to his duties; If you needed his services you just had to rang a silver bell that was in one of the drawers. Simple.

Left all alone, after a while you decided to pick at the treats and smell the sweet fragrance of the tea, your mind was fixated into processing everything that had just happened. 

You were given a choice, a new path. To be, to unfold. In a new world.

You could be anything, you could be anyone. _A blank slate to construct yourself from._

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to all of those in the SinPit encouraging me to put this up.


End file.
